


Trust Issues

by Auntaggie



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Jack has some trauma, Post-Episode: s12e10 The Timeless Children, References to the Year that Never Was, Texting, The fam has some questions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:35:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23830171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Auntaggie/pseuds/Auntaggie
Summary: The Doctor and Jack take a trip to Sheffield after their prison escape. And even though it seems like the Master is dead, the Doctor can't stop checking her phone.
Relationships: Jack Harkness/O implied, Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan)
Comments: 36
Kudos: 148





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a bit of a sequel to my first Thirteen/Dhawan!Master fic [Grass](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22992637), but you don't need to read that to understand what's happening here.

**Just spent three months in a Judoon prison.**

The first text she sent after her escape didn’t get a response. At the very least, she’d expected him to gloat. Even without proof, the Doctor was almost certain he’d had a hand in her arrest. It wasn’t his style, but a few months ago she would have said destroying Gallifrey wasn’t in his wheelhouse either. The Master was always full of surprises. 

Now she was thinking he must have dumped or lost O’s phone along the way. 

The Doctor had been sure he’d text her back. Even if it was just to laugh at the image of her in prison for a change, or mock her for taking so long to escape. She hadn’t expected silence. There were other ways to contact him, but she wasn’t ready to let him back into her mind. 

Texting was easier. 

Like texting O had been easy, she thought bitterly. He’d been so hopeful and kind. Honestly the Doctor had given the spy his number confident he’d never hear from the man. But O texted reports of alien sightings and strange goings on with a cheerful, **was that you??** And the Doctor couldn’t help but be drawn in. 

She loved to talk about her trips and dazzle her friends. O always responded with a string of emojis and asked questions that were half joking, and it gave her the same feeling. They’d become friends. Texting friends, but that was easier in some ways. No chance he’d be hurt, or die, or leave her. No chance she’d get hurt either.

With a bit of hindsight, it was obvious that he’d played her perfectly. He knew she loved telling stories, and he knew she loved the smart ones; the ones who weren’t phased by the strange and unusual. O had been unflappable. A short pause between texts or a small head tilt, and he had assimilated her mad impossible updates into his view of the universe. She’d liked that about him. 

Following her latest regeneration, he’d text her a pic of an Earth politician, following quickly by a not so serious text, **gotta be an alien?**

She’d laughed as she’d replied in the affirmative and then in the moment, she’d decided to send him a pic of herself in her new outfit. She had looked at the pic and grimaced. The lighting was all wrong, too bright, and she wasn’t sure about her nose in this regeneration. Too small. 

She’d considered taking a different picture, but shook her head at the absurdity of the thought, before pressing send. She was just updating a friend on her new outfit. It wasn’t too different to how he’d seen her last; coat, suspenders and a pair of good running boots. 

She’d also text, **They didn’t have any long trousers, but I kinda like these.** For context.

His reply has been typical O. 

**That still doesn’t explain the suspenders.**

And it was so typical of the Master as well. The playful mocking of their youth.

She never realised how much she had missed that aspect of their relationship. She hadn’t noticed when she had found it again with someone else. Well not until that someone else turned out to be the Master in disguise and then it was gone. Poof. Like it had never existed. 

Maybe it had never been real. It was all part of his ploy. The longer the con, the more dramatic and over the top his reveal got to be. He’d always enjoyed that part. But if it had been real, maybe there was still a chance her friend was in there somewhere. Too many maybes. Too many what ifs. And as usual, the bastard with all the answers wasn’t willing to share. 

The Doctor had been too obvious; checking her phone too often. Jack didn’t comment on it in the first days after he’d helped her escape. But she’d noticed him looking at her strangely. 

The first few times she brushed it off, saying she was checking her notifications, clearing out her inbox, updating her profile. She was running out of excuses. Her mouth randomly repeating phrases she’d heard her fam use. 

When she eventually did run out of excuses, she found her fingers flying over the touchscreen. She just wanted to look like she was doing something, texting someone, and not glaring at her phone in the hopes she could make a message from her old school chum magically appear. The Doctor had never meant to press send but damn, there it was. Her finger slipped. Or maybe it was muscle memory. Sent. 

She immediately regretted the text she’d almost definitely sent by accident to O’s number. 

**Jack says hi.**

That would definitely get a reply. If he still had the phone. And if he actually bothered to check it. 

But that wasn’t a good enough excuse for possibly putting one of her friends in danger again. With Jack it wouldn’t be mortal danger, but she still felt a twinge of guilt as she stuffed the device back into her deep pockets. 

She distracted Jack, and herself, by babbling about her fam and Sheffield, bouncing around the Tardis console. She steered them towards 21st Century Earth, suddenly desperate to see the friends she’d put off visiting for the last few days. She’d needed some downtime after their escape, but now, she needed to keep her mind busy. 

Horrible, terrible things happened when she stayed still too long. There was a long list, and now texting would be added to the end of that very long list. Texting a phone that probably didn’t exist anymore. 

She needed something to do, an adventure, and it didn’t take much to get Jack on board. He was always up for meeting new people.

[...]

She found Graham first, or rather he found her, walking towards the Tardis as her and Jack were leaving the blue box. He must have heard the old girl from his flat, or maybe he'd already been out, but he didn’t look happy to see her. He looked tired and a little bit angry, and he pulled her into a strong hug before she could stop him. 

She still wasn’t 100% on hugging in this regeneration. 

When he pulled back to look at her, his eyes were wet. “You never do that again, do you hear Doc? Never.” 

She nodded without thinking and then added, “how long has it been, for you?” because she hadn’t actually paid much attention to the console in her rush to get back to her old life. Silly things like dates and years hadn’t seemed relevant. 

“You been gone seven bloody months. We thought you were dead.”

She didn’t know what to say to that, but Graham was already moving away, shaking Jack’s hand. Instead of an adventure in space, she found herself looking forward to some Earth food, as they walked to meet Yaz and Ryan at a local cafe. 

Yaz was there before them; standing tall in her full uniform, hat in hand and everything. She beamed at the Doctor, and pulled her close just as quick as Graham had earlier, hugging her tight. 

They'd already ordered, teas and coffees for the humans and gravy chips for the Doctor, when Ryan arrived. Still half asleep from a late shift at the warehouse, he didn't bound up to the Doctor with the same energy as the others. He was relieved to see her, but - he seemed quieter. 

He pulled up a chair to join their table, and soon they were catching the Doctor up on all she’d missed and it wasn’t long before the subject turned to Gallifrey. 

Jack rolled his eyes as it became obvious the Doctor had gone AWOL after a supposed suicide mission. Of course, he'd think they were overreacting, and she'd had a plan all along. But there hadn't been a plan. 

They had been so sure she’d died that they’d held a small memorial service for her; just the three of them and the other humans that survived Gallifrey.

Her fam had questions about where she’d been for the past 7 months. what happened on Gallifrey, about how she’d ended up in prison. She answered some of them, deflected others, babbled on about her love of gravy chips, but some of their questions couldn’t be avoided. 

“And what about the Master? Is he gone for good this time?” Graham had asked. 

That definitely got Jack’s attention. “The Master?!” he exclaimed. “He’s alive?” 

The Doctor flinched when she looked up at his too pale face. She bit her lip as she admitted, “yeah, It was him. He destroyed Gallifrey; killed all the Timelords. We’re the only two left, again.”

“But, when the Death particle went off, he was still on Gallifrey. So, he’s dead now.” Ryan said. Yaz smacked him in the arm, but he still didn’t realise what he’d said wrong. 

“Looks like,” the Doctor said, refusing to meet any of their eyes. 

Her friends were quiet. She must be doing a really bad job of holding things together. Not even Jack was crowing at news of the Master’s possible death.

It was Jack that reached for her hand across the table and she had to raise her eyes up from the table to face him. “Hey Doctor, you okay? Did he - What did he do to you?”

She shook her head, but the words didn’t come. Because Jack remembered the year that wasn’t just as well as she did. He had suffered and he had watched the Master with his Doctor, and Jack thought he understood what he’d witnessed. Jack was old, impossibly old, older than her now, maybe, but he would never understand them. 

And she couldn’t explain it. But she took a deep breath, rubbed her hands over her face and tried. “He didn’t do anything to me Jack.”

Jack looked disappointed in her for some reason, but he didn’t argue. 

“So this is a regular thing then? The Master showing up, causing havoc, threatening to kill your friends.” Graham casually drank from his mug of tea, but the accusations behind his words were obvious.

“Well, he did more than threaten me,” Jack grinned. “But yeah, I’d say it’s becoming a pattern.”

The Doctor cocked her head to one side. “Something has to happen more than twice to be a pattern,” she pointed out. She wasn’t wrong, she was just omitting a lot of relevant information. 

“And has he done stuff like this more than twice?” Yaz asked. Oh she was going to be a great police officer, very observant. Not so great when you’re trying to downplay your BFF’s tendency to murder your friends. 

“Yes,” she gritted out. “But - but he was changing. Okay, no Jack, no he almost changed. She was good and she wanted to help and then - something went wrong. I don’t know what, but there was a good six months there when she didn’t threaten to kill anyone. 

“Granted I had her locked in Quantum Fold prison cell for most of it, but you know the Master, that wouldn’t have stopped him - or her rather - if she’d really wanted to kill someone.”

“You do realise that nothing you just said changes the fact that he hurt you,” Jack pointed out, his voice too soft and understanding.

“Hurt me? Jack, he’s killed me before and I’ve killed him. Believe it or not, this is progress. Everyone survived this time.” 

“Except the Timelords,” Ryan added helpfully. 

“Yes, well - yeah, it looks like they’re gone. For now.” 

“Looks like?!” Graham exclaimed

“We’re very hard to kill, and even harder to keep dead. They’re loopholes, so many loopholes, and the Master knows all of them. He’s regenerated more times than any other Timelord - except, well I guess that isn’t true anymore,” she trailed off. 

“You think he’s still alive,” Yaz guessed. 

“Oh, definitely. He always survives. I threw him in a black hole once. In hindsight, he might still be a little sore about that one. But he came back, and yeah, he’ll probably come back from this too.”

The Doctor’s wide smile faltered as she watched her companions share concerned looks with one another. Maybe they were just confused. Black holes confused most humans.

“Do you want him to be alive?” 

“Jack.”

“Answer the question Doctor.”

“You were there, the last time I thought he was dead.” She didn’t need to say more. Jack shook his head at her, arms crossed in disapproval. “He was my friend,” she said softly.

“I thought that was just an act.” Ryan wasn’t asking a question but his voice rose towards the end and she couldn’t let him think that she’d fallen for O’s ruse, even if she still re-read his texts with disturbing regularity. No, she knew O hadn’t really been her friend. 

“It was. He loves his disguises,” she’s grinning now. “But we were friends once. The Master was my first friend at school; my first friend ever. We were always getting in trouble; never good at following rules, but then, he changed.” 

“It’s okay Doctor. He was your friend and it’s okay to be sad that he’s gone. And it’s okay to hope that he’s still out there somewhere. We might not understand it but you can’t change the way you feel.”

The Doctor smiled at Yaz, opened her mouth to say thank you, and she really should thank them more. Her fam. But the phone in her pocket pinged and the words didn’t come. 

She pulled the phone out quickly and tried to look disinterested when she saw the whatsapp notification icon. Her hearts drummed a little faster at the sight, but she very quickly put the phone back in her pocket without checking her messages. 

“What was that?” Ryan asked.

“Telemarketers.”

“Telemarketers that text?” Graham asked. 

“The future is a scary place, Graham,” she said as she popped another chip into her mouth. 

They were all looking at her now. Her fam looked confused again, eyes narrowed and brows furrowed. Or maybe that was suspicion. She was very bad at facial expressions this time. 

Jack, more familiar with 54th century telemarketers, was smirking into his coffee. “I’m almost afraid to ask, but who was he pretending to be?”

“Don’t worry. You didn’t vote for him this time,” the Doctor said, waving away Jack’s concerns. “He was a forgettable MI6 agent. Seriously, they all called him O cause they couldn’t remember his name. But he was a nice guy, even helped me once or - twice “

She trailed off as she noticed Jack was making a funny face. 

“O?” he asked, or maybe it was more of an “Oh.”

She nodded, already not liking where this was going. 

“O. From MI6? Short asian bloke. Great eyebrows. Terrible fashion sense. That O? Was the Master?”

“His fashion sense wasn’t that bad,” Yaz pointed out, "but yeah, that’s him.” 

The Doctor didn’t think talking would be a good idea right now. Jack had his head in his hands and was creatively cursing the Master. 

Nothing new there, but Jack’s anger seemed too fresh given all the years he had lived since the Valiant. Her mouth settled in a silent O as the only possible explanation rose ponderously to the front of her mind. Jack had met O. Jack had met a version of the Master he didn’t recognise, and the Master knew exactly which buttons to press to make Jack’s life a living hell.

The Doctor didn’t think he could have done anything too bad to Jack this time around. He had been playing the part of O to perfection, and he wouldn’t risk that for the opportunity to shoot Jack with lasers again. Or hang him. Or shoot him with regular old bullets. Or drown him. Or any of the other methods of torture he’d employed aboard the Valient. 

O was too patient for that. He’d spent years making her trust him, letting her think he was her friend. If Jack hadn’t been there for the big reveal, and only knew the Master as O, what’s the worst the Master could have done? 

Pretended to be Jack’s friend. 

Oh no. 

“Oh Jack, tell me you didn’t?” the Doctor asked, her face scrunched up, bracing herself for the worst.

“I didn’t. But I - I fucking hate that guy.”

“You’re not alone there mate,” Graham commiserated. 

The Doctor sighed. She didn’t really want to know what the Master had done this time around. She could guess. But even as the tension drained away, her fingers twitched to reach for her phone.  
This morning, she didn’t think it was possible to regret sending that message anymore than she already did. But if Jack met O, that meant the Master could know things about Jack, about his friends and family in the 21st Century. 

“What time is it anyway?” she asked, already knowing the answer in her veins, but it was a useful pretense for pulling her phone out again and covertly checking her messages. 

**Tell the freak I’ve got a room set aside for him if he wants to drop in**

_Shit_

Her fingers flew over the screen, and she’d pressed send again before considering the consequences of her actions. Again. Texting was too easy. 

**Think he preferred O…**

“It’s not even tea time yet. What do you say to a little trip before - what? Have I got something on my face?”

Her fam were all watching her closely; everyone except Jack. He was still starring in the middle distance with a look of faint terror in his eyes.

“Texting back those telemarketers?” Graham asked casually. 

“Well, they’ve got a job to do, same as everyone else.”

Graham hmmed, just as her phone went ping again. She ignored it.

“You not going to get that?” Yaz asked. 

“Nah, they can wait. Don’t wana seem too eager?”

“To text back the - telemarketers?” Ryan asked.

“Course, them. Who else would I be texting?”

Graham nudged Jack with his elbow, drawing the man’s attention back to the table. “They used to text too. Her and that O fella.”

The Doctor spluttered. “That doesn’t - That’s not, really relevant is it?”

“Not sure Doctor. It’s just we’re not really used to seeing you text anyone except us,” Yaz pointed out.

“Or him.” Ryan added unhelpfully. 

“That is not exactly 100% accurate. I text people, lots of people. I just don’t feel the need to go around talking about all the people I’m texting. That’s an entirely human preoccupation.”

Jack had been following their conversation, like a man watching a four sided game of tennis, confused and just a little bit scared. Now he chuckled, and finally seemed to return back to himself, all arrogant swagger and gleeful flirt. “Oh Doctor, tell me you didn’t?”

She glared at him. “Not funny.”

He continued to laugh, shaking his head at her. 

“Not even a little bit funny. As if I would - ever - not again. Never mind.”

Her phone went ping again, and she grabbed it with every intention of turning the blasted thing off. But she’d just check her messages first, make sure no person or planet was in immediate danger. It was the responsible thing to do. 

**Did you prefer O?**

**Oh go on, tell the truth Doctor.**

The Doctor wasn’t sure if he was looking for a compliment or baiting her. At least he wasn’t mentioning Jack; that was progress of a sort. She considered a snide reply, but almost immediately decided against it. 

**He was less complicated**

And with that she turned off her phone. 

“There. Telemarketers be gone.”

This time Jack joined her friends in staring at her, the sparkle in his eyes dimming. 

They didn't believe her. Granted she was lying to them but she always told little lies, and only to keep them safe. Surely they knew that by now. 

The Doctor almost groaned aloud. It was embarrassing that it had taken her this long to figure it out. She was almost as bad at reunions as goodbyes. They weren't angry with her. Not really. But they didn't trust her anymore. Not like they used to, before him. Before Gallifrey. 

She'd lied to them before and her fam had never pushed. They had respected her privacy. She's fairly certain they saw through most of her deflections and attempts to avoid awkward questions but they never challenged her, because they'd trusted her. Maybe not to tell the truth. But they'd trusted her to keep them safe. 

And she'd failed. Abandoned them to the cybermen while she played _This is your Life_ with the Master. Sent them home, while she went back to Panopticon with every intention of killing herself and her oldest friend. She'd left them to grieve for seven months. 

And she'd never told them why. There had never been time and she didn't want to talk about it anyway. It was easier to run from one adventure to the next, pretending Gallifrey was still there. Easier for her, but every time she'd pushed them away they'd lost a bit of faith in her. 

And now, they saw right through her. 

She forced a stiff smile on her face. "I'm sorry. You have my full attention now, promise. It's a long story, what happened on Gallifrey, but - ask me anything."

"Were you just texting the Master?" Ryan asked. 

The Doctor groaned, closed her eyes and tried something new. "It's complicated, but yeah.” 

"He tried to kill us,” Yaz pointed out. 

Jack raised a finger pointedly. "He actually did kill me." 

“Listen, if I'm talking to him or texting him, then there's a chance, a very small chance, that he isn't burning a planet to the ground.” Her friends looked sceptical and the Doctor waned her hands in frustration as she continued. “He’s like one of those yappy dogs. If you give him attention, he’s less likely to start yapping.”

“So he’s what? Your pet?” Ryan asked. 

“No. No. Do not let him hear you say that?” the Doctor pointed a shaky finger at Ryan. “Pets can be trained, controlled. No one can control the Master, and if he thinks someone is trying to give him orders, well..” the Doctor blew out a loud breath. “Let’s just say that all the people who ever tried to control the Master died, horribly, and none of them are ever coming back.”

“He didn’t kill you though.” Graham pointed out, and the Doctor felt her eyes tighten, tears rising with the guilt. She had nothing to say to that. 

“I just mean,” Graham went on. “You go all over the universe saving people, and you’ve saved people from him before. You stopped his plan with the Kasarvin, and they didn’t seem too happy with him after that. You’ve gone toe to toe with this guy over the years, and it sounds to me like you always come out on top.” Jack snorted, but Graham kept talking. “But he doesn’t seem to want to kill you.” 

“Yeah,” Ryan added. “When we were at the boundary, he only threatened to kill us when you wouldn’t go with him.”

“He doesn’t actually want to kill me, because - ” 

The Doctor frowned as she tried to find a truth that would be palatable for her friends. They probably wouldn’t be happy to discover that this was all a game to the Master. Their planet, their lives, just pawns he was trying to remove from the board. 

She licked her lips and tried again. “I have never tried to control him. I always knew he was uncontrollable,” the Doctor said quietly. “I tried once or twice, to convince him to stop killing people. But even then, I never expected him to do what I told him to do. There’s no point, he always does the opposite. Always has.”

“So, you think you can convince him to stop murdering people, by texting?” Yaz asked, her eyebrows raised in disbelief. 

“No. But if he’s distracted looking at his phone, then that’s a few short minutes where he isn’t killing someone.” 

Again, Jack raised his hand. 

“That was different, He doesn’t control the planet this time, He doesn’t have an army,” she said and instantly regretted it. Her shoulders slumped as she wondered how many Cybermasters he could have gotten off planet with him. If he’d relied on a vortex manipulator or transporter technology, hopefully none. 

“I don’t know Doc,” Graham said. “All this seems like a far fetched excuse for you to keep in touch with a mate who’s frankly batshit crazy and very dangerous.”

“I second that,” Jack said.

“Wait a sec,” Yaz interrupted Jack. “You think texting the Master will stop him killing people because he likes the attention. But you turned off your phone?”

When the Doctor had decided to tell her friends the truth, she’d expected disbelief and even anger at the news she was texting the Master. Yaz’s reaction confused her. “Well, I kind of got the feeling it was annoying you guys, and you were all giving me strange looks. Yes, it was a bit like how your face looks right now Yaz.”

“You just stopped texting the Master? Like mid - conversation, you just left him on read?” Ryan asked. 

“Well, no. I don’t know if he replied,” the Doctor clarified. “But that doesn’t matter. I am not planning to text him again today because it obviously annoys you. And I want today to be about us, catching up and getting back out there.”

Her fam did not look enthused. They shared wide-eyed looks with one another.

“Jack?” Yaz asked. “You spent a lot of time with the Master?” He nodded stiffly, mouth a tight line. “How do you think the Master would react to the Doctor not texting him back?”

“Badly,” Jack said with his eyebrows raised. “Very, very badly.” 

“What are you on about? I used to go months before remembering to text him back. It’ll be fine. That’s the great thing about texting.”

“Except you weren’t texting the Master then,” Yaz pointed out. “You were texting O.”

Graham picked the Doctor’s phone up and held it out towards her. “I don’t think texting him is a good idea. But now that you’ve started, you’re going to have to keep it up.”

Even Jack shrugged his agreement when she turned to him, “At least read your messages; make sure he isn’t threatening genocide today.”

The Doctor took the phone from Graham grudgingly. “You’re overreacting. He probably hasn’t even text me back.” Still her fingers shook a little as she traced the pattern to unlock her phone. Except it wasn’t really a pattern. She’d upgraded her phone to accept more complex patterns, and set an old Gallifreyan word as her passcode. 

The Master would appreciate that if he was here to see it. Or he’d call her sentimental. He definitely wouldn’t kill someone just because she’d taken a few extra minutes to text him back. Surely they were past that. 

Her phone pinged as soon as she’d turned it on. And then it pinged again.

_Shit_

By the ping of the fourth incoming message, she realised she had vastly overestimated the Master’s patience in his current regeneration. 

**O was boring. Smart, but oh so boring.**

**You’re not actually into that are you?.**

**Are you ignoring me in favour of your boring little pets?**

The most recent message made the Doctors brow furrow. An image, fuzzy and from a weird angle. She turned her head from one side, to the other, just waiting for the pixels to make sense to her eyes. 

Her phone couldn’t have been off for more than five minutes. He couldn’t have found her so quickly. The grainy image of the Doctor and her friends had been taken from outside the cafe, and answered one question. The Master had escaped Gallifrey with a Tardis. 

This meant the Doctor was revising upwards the number of Cybermasters that could have escaped the planet’s destruction, while looking over Graham and Jack’s shoulders. The front of the cafe was all glass, allowing her an unobstructed view of the street outside. 

“What is it? What are you looking for?” Ryan asked. 

“Okay, so you might have been right about the Master reacting badly,” the Doctor said as he eyes found a lone figure seated outside the shopfront. 

“Why? What has he done?”

“Don’t panic. It’s going to be okay,” she assured them. It was amazing how quickly she reverted back to lying. 

The figure outside had their back to her, as they puffed out a cloud of smoke. The Master had always tended to burn through his regenerations faster than other Timelords, but she never expected him to choose such a human method of speeding up his death. It would take decades to have any impact on their respiratory system. 

She felt the quiet press of ‘contact’ at the edge of her mind, and she knew, even if the figure outside wasn’t the Master, he was close. “I think the Master is here,” she had to admit. Of course all her friends twisted around in their seats, and Jack was already reaching for something under his coat. 

Graham cursed under his breath, “Christ, that is him, isn’t it?”

Her lips pressed together in a thin line as she stood. "Don't move. I'll be right back". 

Yaz grabbed her arm as she walked by her chair, stopping her with a concerned look that made guilt twist in the Doctors gut. "Where are you going? You can't go out there alone." 

"I can and I will. He won't do anything.” Her friends looked doubtful. “Listen if there's one thing that's always remained constant with the Master, it's his flair for the dramatic. He's not going to start anything at a cafe in Sheffield. It lacks… grandiosity. "

She gently took Yaz’s hand from her arm and squeezed it tight. 

She pointed a stern finger at Jack."Stay here, Jack. I can handle him"

“Think that's what we're afraid of,” Ryan muttered as she walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be a oneshot, but it got long. So two chapters 🤞


	2. Chapter 2

In a typically human disregard for the local climate, the cafe had seating outside. In this part of Earth, you'd usually only find smokers and impervious old ladies with angry little dogs sitting outside at this time of year. 

The Master had a new suit, a heavy winter coat to keep out the chill, and he was smoking. He was just playing another part, fitting in to his surroundings. But she couldn't help herself from saying, "when'd you start doing that?" 

"Some little island in the 60s or 70s - it’s hard to keep track. All I really remember is they were great for a riot. It was my kinda place.”

He looked up at her with a small smile, indicating the seat opposite. She didn't sit. She stood stock still, staring at him like an unwanted apparition. 

"What are you doing here?" 

He rolled his eyes, tapping away the ash of his cigarette. "You weren't answering your phone."

“That doesn't explain why you're here. After Gallifrey I thought you'd be licking your wounds, give me a few months peace.” 

He smirked at her. “And miss the heartfelt reunion." The Master twisted in his seat to wave his fingers at the humans instead, a large grin on his face. Jack was out of his seat like a shot, but Ryan was just as fast to pull the other man back. Hopefully her fam could talk some sense into Jack while she handled - whatever this was. 

She dragged the Master’s arm down, turning his attention back to her, as she sat opposite him.

“If you hurt them, if you hurt anyone Master, then this is over.”

“This?” he asked, trying to pull a serious face, and almost succeeding. He threw his still lit cigarette out into the road and rubbed his nose thoughtfully as he faced her again. “Don’t you think it’s about time, we - you know, put a name on this?” He jerked his finger back and forth, indicating the two of them. 

She sighed and shook her head, but he just kept talking. “Because two thousand years is a long time to spend trying to kill someone. And failing. It’s getting a little tedious if I’m honest.” 

“Well, you could stop trying to kill me and see how that feels.”

“Except I did try that Doctor, and all I felt was - well, dead. Don’t fancy repeating that particular mistake anytime soon. Although - ” he sighed. “It was peaceful.”

The Doctor was quiet now, eyebrows raised. This was the closest he’d come to mentioning Missy in all the time she’d known this version of the Master. She couldn’t ask him - no, that wouldn’t work. If he knew she was interested in finding out what happened to Missy, he’d never tell her.

The Master was unnaturally quiet too, watching her closely but he didn’t seem to find what he was looking for there. “But no, Doctor. I meant you. You keep trying to kill me. It’s so tedious. You’re just never able to - to follow through.” His voice was rising and the humans walking by were starting to notice.

“Me?!” she asked incredulously. “I don’t want to kill you Master. I just want the killing to stop.” 

“And if you killed me it would stop,” he pointed out callously, eyebrows raised. “But you don’t. Why is that, Doctor? Why can’t you stop me?”

“You’re not seriously asking me that question are you?” 

He shrugged, picked a piece of non-existent lint from his coat. He seemed to lose all interest in her, his eyes moving over the shop fronts of the street opposite. 

“Why are you here Master?” she tried again. 

"I just wanted to see your face,” he said distractedly. He looked at her again with a jagged smile, “It was priceless. And your little humans - they all looked so disappointed. Except dear old Jack, he seemed to have other things on his mind.”

He still wanted her to play his games. 

“Yeah, Jack did look a bit green around the gills,” she agreed, leaning back in her seat. “You should have stayed away from him

“Well I tried but the freak always was persistent.” 

She hmmed, watching him closely. 

He scoffed at her. “Not like that. Come on Doctor, I have some standards.”

“Why are you really here Master?” she asked again, her patience worn.

She watched his jaw clench, as he pulled back adjusting his jacket, outwardly relaxed but she could see the old anger rising again. And then it was gone. 

He still took an inordinate amount of time chewing over his next words. “I need a - favour.” 

“Oh you have got to be kidding me. You left me to the Mondasians, you destroyed Gallifrey, lied to me, tried to kill my friends and now you want a favour.

“Well, no. I'm done trying to fix this - you. I’m done” 

His laughter started as a giggle and grew into something full bodied and unsettling, while she glared at him. “Oh this is good. You mean it don't you? You think you can say no, to me.” 

“I already said it. But go on, do you little song and dance. Threaten my friends, hold the whole world hostage. I still won't do what you want.” 

“That's why it’s so funny,” he sneered. “You already did.” 

She wracked her mind, sifting through everything that had happened on Earth, on Gallifrey and since then, to try and figure out what the Master meant. When had she done what he wanted. 

They were a pair; the two of them. At least, she was willing to admit it. Neither of them were very good at following instructions, and she’d rather run headfirst into danger than give the Master what he wanted. He had to threaten whole planets to bend her to his will, but he quite liked doing that anyway and getting her to behave was just a bonus. 

But he wasn’t threatening anyone right now. So she must have missed something. A favour. He wanted something from her, implied he’d already gotten it, but when? And if he already had what he wanted, why was he here? The concept boggled her mind, and she knew he was grinning ear to ear at what must be a very puzzled look on her face. 

She was missing something.

“You see,” he began to explain in a very chipper tone. “You weren't the only person to get into a bit of bother after Gallifrey, and you'll never guess who came to my rescue.“

“No”

“Yes!” He laughed gleefully at her now. The look on her face obviously worth the pain of having to ask her for this _favour_. 

Sometimes she really hated time travel. It made sense now; why he was here asking for something she’d already given him. He was from a future point in her timeline. She had - rescued the Master. It was already done, a fact. She just didn’t know it yet. 

“Oh don't look so glum. You'll love it, lots of running and I don't think anyone died..” 

“I won’t do it,” she gritted out. “Wherever you are, I’m happy to let you rot there. You killed all of our people. You deserve whatever you get.”

He barely paid attention to her words, pulling his phone from his pocket and focusing on that instead. His fingers typing quickly as he spoke. “You know it doesn’t work that way Doctor. You don’t have a choice.” 

Her phone pinged one more time. 

“Coordinates,” he explained. 

Her mouth opened and closed, as she tried to process this. "Do you really expect me to just go where you tell me to go?!” 

“Well, yes, isn't that your gig?” he asked, ignoring her implication that she plainly thought this was another trap. More flirting. “You help the helpless, save puppies, and -I'll be honest, I don't know what you usually do.”

She shook her head and pointed out the obvious. “This has to be a trap.”

“I wish it was. I enjoy our traps,” he said standing, looking down on her now. “But, no - this is just me doing what I can to preserve my own timeline. I don’t care what you think you’re going to do with this information, because I already know what you’ve done. And I’m sure you’ll do it again.”

He was grinning down at her, smug in his victory and the Doctor was tempted to slap the smile off his face. If he was telling the truth, she would have no choice in what happened next and the frustration of her situation lit the fire of her own rage. 

The Master’s eyes flitted back to the cafe. “Whoops, looks like it’s time to go,” he said, taking a step back. The Doctor looked up just in time to see Jack storm out of the door, gun in hand, closely followed by her fam. 

“Get away from her,” Jack said, leveling his gun at the Master. 

The Doctor didn’t think, moving before her mind could catch up to her actions. She stood between the muzzle of Jack’s weapon and the Master. “Jack, no. Put it away.”  
She opened her mouth to tell her friends that she was okay, and they didn’t need to worry, but the Master’s voice brought her attention back to him. 

“AH, ah, ah,” the Master said in warning, already backing away from them as she twirled to face him. The hand hidden in his pocket was now raised, implying that he was once again threatening her and her friends with his tissue compression eliminator. “I wouldn’t come any further if I were you human.” The Doctor frowned. His TCE wouldn’t work through the fabric of his coat. 

“Or do,” he shrugged. “I’ve had a shitty week, and I’d love any excuse to cut you lot down to size.”

She almost laughed when she realised what was happening. The Master was unarmed, and essentially holding up her friends with a concealed finger gun, as he retreated.

“See you soon humans. And Doctor, don’t wait too long before you make your decision,” he winked as said the last part, and the Doctor briefly considered getting out of Jack’s way.

The Master continued to walk backwards, putting more distance between them before he felt comfortable enough to turn. The Doctor was quickly surrounded by her fam. 

Once certain that she was okay, they eyed the Master’s retreating back with mistrust. 

“So what’d he want?” Graham asked. 

“Nothing,” she lied, physically pulling Jack back with a muttered, “Not today, Jack.” He’d moved to follow the other Timelord. 

“Are we safe, Doctor?”

She didn’t say anything to Yaz’s question, because she honestly didn’t know the answer. She was still trying to make sense of the things the Master had told her. 

She watched the Master turn a corner, and - then he was staggering back. Almost falling as some force refused to let him go any further. She frowned. That was interesting. The Doctor’s head tilted and her eyes narrowed, as she watched the Master argue with whatever force had pushed him back. 

After a beat, the Master’s shoulders sagged and he looked as defeated as she felt. He turned back to her then, Ryan muttered a curse behind her. She instinctively moved forward, putting her friends behind her and keeping an arm in front of Jack to prevent him from making any rash moves against the Master. He stormed back to them, coat flying in the cold breeze and his eyes burning with rage. 

When he stopped in front of her, he took a moment, a deep breath, before he spoke.

“One more thing,” he gritted out. “This,” he said holding up O’s phone. “I didn’t have this with me on Gallifrey. I last had it in Australia, before your arrival. You gave it back to me. After Gallifrey.” 

“So I didn’t just save the man who killed everyone on Gallifrey. I went back and crossed my own timeline, risking a catastrophic paradox, just to pick up your phone. I got that right?”

“Well,” he considered her question for just long enough that the Doctor knew he didn’t want to answer. “No,” he eventually said. “You sent the freak.” There was no ignoring the bitter tone in his voice now. 

“I’m not doing anything for you,” Jack sneered. 

The Doctor understood why Jack would be even more unwilling than she was to help the Master, but it made sense in a way. She’d hate herself for asking but he was their only option.

Her shoulders slumped. “Because Jack is the only person who can go to Australia and get your phone without risking a paradox. Great. That’s just great. Anything else while you’re at it?”

“God I hope not,” he muttered, turning immediately. There was no dramatic exit this time. He waved a hand over his shoulder in some parody of goodbye, and this time, he was allowed to turn the corner without obstruction. 

“There is no way in hell I am doing anything to help him.” Jack was angry whereas the rest of the humans were just confused. She’d need to explain the situation, verify the coordinates the Master had given her and then, once she was certain he was telling her the truth, the Doctor would have to get Jack on side. 

She’d have to fix his vortex manipulator. She’d only just broken the damn thing again, after their prison escape. What was that - the third or fourth time? She secretly wondered where Jack kept getting the parts to fix it himself. But she could save him the trouble just this once. 

Risk the timeline to save the timeline. 

It was stupid and dangerous. She risked setting the Master loose on the Universe again. The Doctor didn’t doubt she could do it; apparently she already had. She just couldn’t wrap her mind around the why. Why had she saved the Master? Again. 

[...]

Jack didn’t know what he’d expected when the Doctor had said Australian outback, but the shack that hid the Master’s TARDIS was definitely not the Timelords’s usual style. 

He snuck a look around the corner to see - two police officers guarding an empty chair. Huh, that was strange. Jack moved quickly and quietly over the porch and through the front door of O’s home. Not a single board creaked under his weight, and he had a moment of elation as the door shut silently behind him. 

His relief was premature. 

“Captain Harkness?” The voice belonged to O. 

Jack twirled to face the man, and smiled as he saw O was kitted out for the outback. He’d always talked about going off the grid. 

He had to shake himself, remind himself that O was in fact the Master, and had threatened to kill him only a few hours ago. The smile slipped off O’s face. Jack had been silent for too long, but he had no idea what to say. 

The plan was to sneak in while O waited for the Doctor to arrive, and she was going to be here in less than five minutes. O should not be here. He should be - outside. But, the empty chair.

“Is everything okay Jack? You look a bit - ”

Jack remembered a lesson that the Doctor had taught him long ago. Don’t lie to the Master. He can always tell a lie. At the time Jack suspected some facet of Timelord biology allowed them to pick up on an increased heart rate or maybe he could smell the sweat over the blood on Jack’s skin. Later Jack wondered if their damned mind tricks allowed the Timelord to spot lies, the same way humans can interpret facial expressions within their own species. 

The memory of that time, brought the smell of dried blood and old sweat back to Jack’s nose. He was convinced the Master could hear his heartbeat from across the room. 

Tell the truth, he reminded himself. “The Doctor sent me,” he began. 

“Really?” O sounded confused but so unlike the Master that Jack had a brief moment to wonder if this could work. “She’s coming here, you know? I’m expecting her shortly.” 

“She’ll be here in - three minutes and forty eight seconds,” Jack said, checking the countdown attached to his vortex manipulator. “And you need to be out there to greet her.” 

“You’re not planning to join us,” the Master pointed out. His eyes were already calculating, wondering. The mask was slipping. 

“Fraid not. See, you and the Doctor sent me back because you couldn’t cross your own timeline. Something about a paradox,” Jack shrugged, and tried to make the movement look natural. “I’m not much of a temporal physicist, but I’ve seen enough paradoxes in my time to know that they’re best avoided. Well, one. I’ve seen one paradox and that was enough.”

He was babbling, as the Master approached him, eyes narrowed. “So why did _we_ send you here?”

“Your phone. You forgot your phone,” Jack said quickly. The Master raised his eyebrows at that. He was now within stabbing distance, his head turned to one side, examining Jack. He knew that look. It looked wrong on O’s soft face, surrounded by the detritus of O’s boring life.

It was the Master’s ‘wonder how I’ll kill Jack this time’ look. 

“The Doctor sent you here to get my phone,” O laughed this time, shaking his head. “Seems a tad extreme. Couldn’t you just tell me to bring it with me. I’m assuming as you’re here, I’m going somewhere, with the Doctor.”

“Can’t say,” Jack scrunched up his face. “Could cause a paradox. But the issue is - the Doctor in the future gave you back your phone, but in the present she doesn’t have it, and this was the last place we know your phone was. So - “

“So in order to keep the timeline intact, you need to take my phone.” It was really no surprise the Master had grasped the problem so quickly. O reached a hand into the pocket of his trousers, and Jack barely held back a flinch as the hand reappeared quickly, holding the smartphone out to him. 

He tried to look grateful as he took the device. “Thanks, you should probably get out there.”

O smiled broadly at him, hmmed and leaned even closer. “You’re going to have to get out of the way first.”

Jack hadn’t realised his back was pressed against the solid wood of the door until it was pointed out to him. He laughed nervously, as he edged around O, never once turning his back to the other man. 

O’s eyes followed him the whole way, until their positions were reversed. O had his back to the front door now, and Jack felt like he’d walked himself into a trap. He took another step back. And another. He started to breathe a bit easier now he was firmly out of stabbing range. 

“You okay Jack? You seem a little jumpy.”

“Yeah, been a long day” Jack replied. He pocketed the phone, and checked the settings on his vortex manipulator. Yes he was fine. He had a way out, an escape route. He should go now. He had what he’d come here for, and enough trauma to last him the next few lifetimes. He should go now. 

But he paused and looked back at O again. It was O, the mask was back in place, and Jack could see concern in the other man’s eyes. He didn’t know how the Master did it, but it was deeply unsettling, and yet - Jack couldn’t help but remember the shy MI6 agent who’d been so eager to help him. 

“Just, before I go. I wanted to say thanks, for that thing in Birmingham. We wouldn’t have even known about it without you. Lives were saved because of you. And I don’t know if I ever said it, but thank you.”

It was a goodbye of sorts to a man who had never really existed, but Jack felt better for saying it. Less like a trapped animal, facing his executioner. 

“Jeez Jack, you’re making me nervous. I’m not going to - ” O looked genuinely taken aback and he stuttered out. “I don’t die, do I?”

Jack smiled a broad and genuine smile. “Like either of us would have the good sense to stay dead.”

He engaged the vortex manipulator before the Master put two and two together and started firing lasers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies to the French
> 
> And it's happened again-- I planned a oneshot, then two chapters and now things have gotten out of hand *sigh*
> 
> ETA 25/12/2020: Edited one piece of dialogue to be nicer to the French - even if I meant it as a compliment. They're a great bunch of lads :D   
> And apologies that this edit was later than promised. I thought I had made this change already, but no.. Sorry bout that.


	3. Chapter 3

Yaz was quite impressed with herself. She’d managed to pull rank, on the Doctor. Not often that happens. The Doctor knows everything about time and space and alien culture, but Yaz knows police procedure. No way she was getting left behind while they went on their little prison visit. 

Or prison break. 

The Doctor had been vague with the details. 

She’d told them everything they needed to know about this planet though, and Yaz was really quite grateful for that as they walked through the mostly deserted streets. The other pedestrians weren’t many, but they were definitely alien. It was always a culture shock. She had to stop her eyes growing wide, resist the urge to stare or flinch at limbs that seemed to move at impossible angles, but people were people. Even when they weren’t human. And the people of Medea were among one of the most multicultural and highly educated populations in the galaxy. 

She remembered the Doctor’s little history lesson as they strode through the sandy streets, 

Back on the Tardis, when the Doctor had ignored all their concerns and punched in the Master’s coordinates without a second thought. “Okay so, what have we got here,” the Doctor had muttered. “Still in Mutter’s Spiral. That’s probably good. We’re not going to be too far from home.” She pressed a button and the image of a pale pink planet had appeared on screen. Yaz remembered thinking how beautiful it looked, with its yellow clouds, red ocean and dusky pink earth. Now she was here the reality of life on a desert planet was gritty and hot.

“Medea III. It’s mostly desert but a nice technologically advanced planet, multiple sentient species, good links to other planets. It’s a Galactic Alliance planet too, overseen by the Shadow Proclamation… hmmm. That might not be good. ”

Yaz’s eyes had darted from the pretty pink planet, to the Doctor. The Shadow Proclamation, the organisation that the Doctor had only just escaped from. It invited another extended stay in a prison cell. This was almost definitely a trap.

“Doc you’re not really going to do this are you. Rescue the bloke who blew up your planet?!” Graham has asked

“Don’t have much of a choice Graham,” she said. She’d continued tapping on the keys of the console and Yaz bit her tongue. Of course the Doctor would run towards the danger like she always did, but there was worse still as the Doctor exclaimed, “oh, no, no, no. That’s not good.”

“What is it?” Ryan asked. 

“Not a trap,” she had muttered.

Jack snorted and his words had echoed Yaz’s own thoughts. “It’s a bit early to say that Doctor.”

The Doctor sighed. “Okay, so a bit of context needed first,” she had started.

“Medea III started off as a mining planet, but then instead of exporting their minerals off planet, they moved into production. They invested in education, industry and next thing you know Medea III is the go to planet for technological exports in this corner of the Spiral. Mechanical droids, nanotechnology, biomedical tech, they do it all.” 

“And an unintended consequence of that is they have one of the most educated planets you’ll ever find. It’s an entire planet of PHDs. So students come from all over to study at their technical colleges, and next thing you know they’re the leading planet in exporting sentient resources too.”

“Sentient resources?” Yaz had asked, already dreading the answer. 

“People,” Jack answered. “Medea graduates are in high demand.”

“Exactly, and that’s how I know it’s not a trap.” The Doctor paused, all excitement at having an opportunity to tell them about the rise of Medea III left her face. She looked grim, and Yaz pursed her lips in a thin line. She’d known even then this wasn’t actually good news. “There was an explosion on a carrier due to transport Medea graduates to Galactic Alliance postings last week. Some reports of people been - incinerated. before the explosion.” 

“The Master?” Ryan asked.

“Definitely. They actually managed to arrest him, and he’s sitting in prison right now.”

“He could have planned this Doctor, to lure you here,” Jack pointed out. But Yaz was already questioning the target. It didn’t seem like the Master’s usual ‘destroy all sentient life on the globe’ plan. Why this carrier? These graduates? It didn’t make any strategic sense.

The Doctor peered out at Jack from behind the console and answered the question Yaz didn’t want to ask. “The carrier was transporting graduates and supplies destined for Shadow Proclamation postings. The prison you found me in was their third stop.”

“You think the Master did all this so he could break you outta jail.” Yaz had been so sure in that moment that she’d understood.

“No,” the Doctor had corrected her gently. “I think he did this, because he needed a suitable disguise. He was going to enter the prison as a guard or a medical technician,” she shrugged. “It doesn’t really matter who he was pretending to be. But I somehow doubt he was planning a jail break.”

As with all things related to the Doctor and the Master, this explanation only led to more questions, and chief among them: Why is the Doctor so willing to break this man out of prison when he’d literally kill hundreds, just to have the chance to gloat over the Doctor in her cell?

She had a feeling she’d never get an answer because looking at the capital city’s Hall of Justice, escape seemed extremely unlikely. 

All the buildings in Medea’s capital city were low to the ground, nothing taller than two stories, with the Doctor explaining how much of the population chose to live underground. There was a vast network of streets and transport links and homes and shops under their feet. The people of Medea had been miners first, because much of their early civilization lived underground. And much of the planet still did. 

Surface dwellings were symbols of status for the elite, and a necessity for industries and institutions that dealt with offworlders, but they were still small compared to buildings in Earth’s cities. The Hall of Justice was not small. It’s walls rose up high and imposing, branching into spires that resembled sharp spikes. While many of the surface dwellings had wide windows, shutters open wide on a calm day like this, the Hall of Justice had no visible windows. Just a large, wide doorway with guards posted on either side. 

Yaz suspected this was the only entrance or exit to the building. There may be an exit leading to the underground city. But that would do them no good, if they needed to get back to the Tardis in a hurry. The place was a fortress

The Doctor appeared unphased, marching past the guards and through the large stone doorway. Yaz looked to Jack, maybe searching for reassurance or an identical spark of apprehension. He just shrugged and followed after the Doctor. 

And Yaz followed both of them. 

The interior was nowhere near as imposing as the exterior. The Hall of Justice Iooked kind of - like a bank. There was a long counter behind which tellers seemed very concerned with paperwork and counting credits, behind their protective screens. Yaz frowned. This didn’t look like a police station, or a prison. 

This looked more like the council offices back in Sheffield. Members of the public applying for licenses, complaining about potholes and the Council staff themselves taking an inordinate amount of time to process anything. 

This didn’t look like the kind of place you’d keep a war criminal, but there were guards outside, and more posted at the doorways that led away from this central hall. Maybe this was just the public facing side of things. 

The Doctor never liked queues and Yaz momentarily smirked when she skipped to the top of the line, holding up her psychic paper and saying without a hint of guilt, “sorry folks, intergalactic emergency here.”

The teller did not look amused, and Yaz quickly stood tall and to one side, slipping into her role as PC Khan without thinking. Jack stood on her other side, and the teller seemed to shrink back. 

“Agents from the Fatality Index,” the Doctor lied. “We’re here to take custody of a prisoner.”

All complaints about cutting lines and proper procedure seemed to die on the teller’s lips. Well the dark green creature didn’t seem to have lips, but he stopped talking very quickly and his scales seemed to turn a paler shade of green. 

“Of course,” he stuttered. “I’ll notify the Justice of the Peace. Can I ask which prisoner you’re here to collect.”

“I believe he’s an Unknown Person in your records.” The teller already had what appeared to be a communication device in hand, but he stopped to stare at the Doctor. Yaz suspected the Doctor noticed the creature’s discomfort and kept talking just to make him even more uncomfortable. No one could actually be that oblivious. 

“It’s the prisoner responsible for the Alliance Station bombing last week. In our Index, he’s called the Master; a Timelord responsible for several planetary extinction level events. Really it’s good you gave us a call. Sooner we take him off your hands - well, we’ve dealt with beings like him before.”

“I’ll let the Justice know - that,” the creature stuttered. 

The Doctor turned back to them with a wide smile. “See, easy peasy. We’ll be home by tea.”

Jack groaned, “You’ve jinxed it.”

“What?! No, I haven’t.”

“So what is this place? Because it doesn’t look like a prison.” Yaz asked as she looked around.

“Nope,” the Doctor said, “this is the courthouse and the police station, and sometimes, yeah I suppose it could be used as a prison, but Medea doesn’t have much use for them. You see, the thing about civilisations, even the technologically advanced ones, that value their economy and commerce over all else; justice is a business. 

“People come here to buy their way out of trouble, or into trouble, depends what you’re into. The Justice of the Peace isn’t really a Judge like you’d have on your planet. He just maintains the peace and prosperity of the people of Medea, at any cost.” 

“What happens if you can’t pay?” Yaz asked.

“You work,” Jack says grimly. “And if you can’t work, you die.”

The Doctor shrugged uncomfortably when Yaz looked at her with wide eyes. God, she knew there was something about this place that just didn’t sit right with her, but that was bloody barbaric. The Master deserved it, but surely the vast majority of the criminals in Medea did not. Her mind was already turning, wondering what a planet like this would actually consider a crime. 

She was feeling a little queasy when the Justice of the Peace greeted them, and stuttered through apologies for not being aware of their transfer request before this. They got a limited tour of the building as he escorted them to the Master’s cell. Yaz looked around carefully, but all she saw was more stone walls, no windows. It felt claustrophobic like they were already trapped underground, but maybe that was a comforting feeling for the Medeans. 

Unsurprising the Justice of the Peace did not seem very willing to give up his prisoner. He went on and on about the cost of the Alliance Station bombing, not in the context of lives lost, but in terms of lost profits and a damaged reputation. Yaz felt sick but the Doctor seemed willing to nod along for once, keeping her opinions on Medea’s justice system to herself. 

They arrived at another guarded doorway, this one closed and Yaz sneaked a peak at the unmoving officers as the Justice unlocked the door for them. Yaz might be on probation, but she’s still familiar with the smells and sounds of station holding cells. The silence isn’t all that surprising, even for the Master. It’s the smell that hits her as the door opens that makes Yaz pause. Antiseptic, almost medical. 

“And here he is,” the Justice proclaimed. “As you can see we have the situation well under control.”

There were no bars, no wall or barrier of any kind preventing the Master from leaving his “cell”. It was obvious he was in no condition to move. 

The Timelord was restrained to a device that reminded Yaz of a chair in a dental surgery. He was reclined back but she could still see the restraints that tied his arms and legs to the device. There was another restraint across his chest. Without them she imagined his body would slide off the seat entirely. There were needles in his arms and wires that reached underneath his shirt connected to unfathomable machines. 

“You know, this isn’t half as satisfying as I thought it’d be,” Jack muttered beside her. 

The Doctor was still, but Yaz had travelled with her long enough that she could see the anger poking through her disguise. The Justice couldn’t see it though. So he just kept talking. 

“We have come up with a fair punishment, judged acceptable to all damaged parties,” the Justice said, unheeding of his visitor’s discomfort. “You see, the Timelord’s biology is unique in all the galaxy. They contain within them an energy very similar to arton energy, and when harvested, it can contribute to the prosperity of Medea III and, in some small way, this creature can repay his debt to my people.”

“Harvested,” Yaz repeated in shock. 

“Yes,” the Justice said enthusiastically. “Let me demonstrate.”

Before she could say no, and with the Doctor still staring at the Master’s body hung limply in that device, the Justice reached out and turned it on. 

All at once, the seeming unconscious Timelord screamed. His voice sounded hoarse and tired, and Yaz had no doubt he’d spent much of his time in this room screaming. The device, that horrid chair, seemed to be electrocuting him, but the golden energy appeared to come from him and not the machine. She noticed the wires attached to his chest glow and the machine he was attached to began to make a tremendous sound that almost drowned out the man’s screams. It sounded like pistons whiring, gears turning, the cogs of machinery appearing to literally drain the life out of him. 

“I think we’ve seen enough.” Jack said loudly. 

The Justice chuckled as he turned off the device and the din quieted. The Doctor had drawn closer to the other TImelord, and Yaz could no longer see the woman’s face. Her shoulders trembled and the only sound in the room was the Master’s laboured breathing. 

Until the Justice of the Peace tried to state his case, again.

“The Timelord’s energy will go a long way to repairing the damage he did to our technological projects. The greatest minds of the Capital Technical Institute believe it can be used to power advancements in at least three different disciplines, and if we can replicate this, find a way to synthesize this power - well, the opportunities are endless.”

“You won’t live that long. This planet will burn before you discover anything,” the Doctor said.

“Excuse me.”

The Doctor whirred around, storming towards the Justice and pointing an angry finger at the Master. “Do you have any idea who that is? What he’s capable of? Do you even realise that you have already condemned your people to a slow and fiery death for your treatment of him, or do you think you can succeed where all others have failed?”

The Justice starred dumbly at the Doctor, his mouth opening and closing in confusion. 

“Captain, check the fatality index for The Master,” the Doctor ordered. Jack looked confused, even after the Doctor clarified. “Your wrist computer.” She nodded in the direction of his vortex manipulator. 

Yaz frowned and Jack looked completely confused as he punched random buttons, playing along with whatever ruse the Doctor had planned. The Doctor, for her part, did not break eye contact with the increasingly agitated Justice, as she activated the sonic screwdriver she held behind her back. 

Jack’s vortex manipulator beeped one. 

The Doctor looked apologetic. “I’m sorry Justice, every living being in the galaxy has an entry in the Fatality Index. You know that right? There’s nothing unusual about that, but my mistake - I should have been clearer. Captain, search the index for all references to The Master as “Cause of Death”.

Jack was more confident as he pressed the buttons on the vortex manipulator this time, and the Doctor soniced the device again. This time the beeps were frequent and incessant, rising in pitch and speeding up as the Doctor explained the options available to Medea III’s Justice of the Peace. 

“I know you think you can control this Timelord and use him for your own purposes, but the Timelords thought that too and he killed them. He burned his own planet. Have you heard of the Traken Union? Probably not, he destroyed those planets and a good chunk of the known universe. 

“What you have here is the most prolific serial killer in the history of the Universe. A man who has committed uncountable numbers of mass genocide, and you’re keeping him _alive_ ,” she huffed out a laugh. “Personally, I wouldn’t recommend that. No, much better you hand him over to us - for execution.”

Jack’s vortex manipulator was continuing to beep loudly as the Justice stuttered his objections. The Doctor remained silent as the beeps continued to rise in frequency. 

The Justice’s complaints were almost drowned out by the high pitched noise and the poor man’s fear got the better of him. Eventually he was silent.

“The Fatality Index thanks you for your cooperation and will inform you when the execution has been carried out. Release the prisoner and we’ll take it from here.”

The Justice moved back to the machine. Another button was pressed and the Master fell to the floor just how Yaz had imagined. The Justice was quick to make his escape after that. 

“Doctor, think I can stop searching now.” Jack pointed out. The Doctor nodded and soniced his vortex manipulator. The beeping stopped and the small clinical room was suddenly too quiet. 

“What now?” Yaz asked..

The Doctor was staring down at the Master’s prone form. Yaz was tempted to check the man was still breathing but she’d observed the Master enough to be wary of approaching the Timelord. 

The Doctor didn’t share her fears, walking towards the seemingly unconscious man and kicking him in the leg. 

“Stop pretending.”

“Ow, I’ve just been tortured. Bit of compassion wouldn’t go amiss.” The Master’s voice was rough and hoarse. He started to pull himself into a sitting position but seemed to have difficulty with even that small movement. 

The Doctor snorted. “I’m here to rescue you. So how bout you show a bit of gratitude!”

The Master stopped in his efforts to remove the wires attached to him and laughed harshly. “Rescuing me? Is that what the kids call it these days? Last time you _rescued_ me, I spent 700 years in a box while you tried to gaslight me into becoming one of your little pets.” He gestured dismissively at Yaz and Jack as he used the device he’d been restrained in to lever himself back to his feet. 

He didn’t stay there long, falling back into the chair he’d just escaped. Yaz was beginning to doubt they’d be able to walk the Master all the way back to the Tardis. 

“It’s not actually gaslighting when someone happens to be a mass murdering sociopath and you just want them to understand that killing people is wrong!!”

The Master almost growled as he removed something what looked like a needle from his arm. “Oh please, it’s hypocritical gaslighting coming from you.”

“Doctor, we really don’t have time for this,” Yaz pointed out. 

“Oh shush, the grown ups are talking.”

The Doctor pushed the Master back into the leather of the chair, a hand fisted in the tattered remains of the man’s shirt. “Don’t you dare speak to her like that.”

The Master whooped with joy, laughing even as the Doctor’s fist presses against his throat. “Ohh really Doctor? Another one? What would the Missus say?”

“Shut up. We are going to walk you out of this building, as our prisoner, and I need you to do one little thing for me. Just one thing Master, to keep both of our timelines intact. And then you can go wherever you want in the Universe.”

“Seriously?” Jack interrupted. “You’re letting him go?”

The Doctor ignored Jack, leaning closer to the Master. “I’m done trying to fix you. So once this is over, we go our separate ways and I really hope I never have to lay eyes on you again.” She released the Master, taking a step back from him. Yaz noticed the small frown maring his face, the absence of any laughter at what should have been a victory.

Yaz was surprised that the Doctor was letting him go, but more surprised at the Master’s seeming disappointment at this development. 

“Y’know I’m going to come back here and raze this planet to the ground. I’m going to find all the nice reptile families in their underground holes and I’m going to burn them all for what they did here.”

“No,” the Doctor said sadly. “You won’t burn them.” The Master laughed and licked his lips, probably preparing for another maniacal monologue, but the Doctor got there first. “Medea III will suffer a catastrophic ecological disaster in about 6 years. No one knows what happened, but they won’t burn.” 

The Master nodded, the little frown deepening and now Yaz was starting to feel uneasy. “So how’d I do it?” he asked. 

“A flood. The deserts of Medea III turn to mud, and their underground citadels crumple. The planet, and everyone on it, drowns.” 

The Master stood. Still unsteady on his feet, he wavered as he tried to straighten his shirt, tuck it into his trousers. “Well then, we better get a shift on. Planets to drown and all that.” He paused. “It doesn’t have the same ring as burn. Planets to burn. That just sounds better. Are we sure this was my idea?”

The Doctor shrugged. “Does it matter.” She produced a pair of handcuffs from her pocket, holding them out in Yaz’s direction. “PC Khan, secure the prisoner.”

Yaz didn’t move to take them from her. She stayed exactly where she was, rooted to the spot and staring at the Doctor like she’d lost her mind. 

Eventually the Doctor turned from staring at the Master and looked at her. “Yaz?”

“You’re not actually going to let him go are you? You’re not going to let him kill all these people?”

The Doctor looked pained at her question, but the Master sighed overly loud. “Poor Yaz, I think you’d pushed her too far Doctor.” He turned his eyes to her then, and she couldn’t miss the glint of excitement in them. He was enjoying this. He liked to see her conflicted, disappointed in the Doctor and unsure what to do. It seemed to restore him, give him an energy he’d lacked only a few moments earlier. 

“Maybe she’s lying,” he said with a smirk in the Doctor’s direction. “Ever thought of that Yaz? You see these handcuffs,” he said, taking the cuffs off the Doctor with a flourish. “They’re Timelord proof. I joke about the Doctor’s wife, mainly cause she’s dead and I like hurting the Doctor. But the Missus really knew her stuff. Put those cuffs on me, and there’s no way I’m getting out of them without the Doctor’s help.”

He stepped closer to the Doctor, biting back a wide smile that threatened to take over his face. “Will you really let me go Doctor? Really?”

“Yes.” 

“Well yes, you need something from me, and I’m assuming it doesn’t involve the handcuffs unless - no? Okay fair enough. But after I do what you want, are you really going to set me free?”

“Yes,” she said again, angrier this time. 

The Master laughed, seeming unconcerned. He stalked towards Yaz. Anyone else, she’d say it was more of a staggering shuffle. But even injured and ungainly, the Master stalked. 

“See.” he said to Yaz. It was more of a question. _Do you see?_ She didn’t. “She has no intention of letting me go free. She lies, Yaz. Think about it. She’s lied to you about everything. Hell, she abandoned Jack rather than tell him the truth. We worked through that in a particularly painful therapy session. Remember that Jackie boy? Good times.” 

She turned to Jack and saw him standing ready, his gun in hand, prepared to shoot the Master if he tried to hurt her. It was comforting to know she had backup, even if the Master really was an unkillable alien. 

She took the handcuffs from the Master, and quickly secured the first cuff around his wrist. The Master was compliant, making no move to stop Yaz as she turned him away from her, and secured both his wrists behind his back. She kept one hand on his arm, prepared to lead him out of the room. Yaz was still unsure he’d be able for the walk back to the Tardis, but she was looking forward to watching him struggle with the journey. 

“Yaz,” the Doctor began. 

“It can wait, Doctor. Let’s get out of here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've started my summer re-read of Buffy fanfic, and I was reading Masters & Minions by Medea while writing this and trying to think of a planet name. So I named it after Medea. Wherever that author is, I hope they've fared better than the inhabitants of this planet.
> 
> Also now much more than 2 chapters, cause I can't plan a fic to save my life (send help)


	4. Chapter 4

The Master's manic energy left him as they left the Capitol. Walking through the dunes and into the breeze, he struggled to stay upright. By the time their little group reached the Tardis, he was staggering, limping and Yaz had to exert more and more energy to keep him upright and moving forward. 

He pulled away from her once they entered the Tardis, lost his footing and promptly fell sideways, eventually flopping down on the steps leading up to the console. He made it look intentional, sitting there, swinging around to lean back against the column. 

The Doctor had already moved to the console, and Yaz followed. The Master was still in his cuffs after all. The Doctor was opening drawers Yaz hadn't been aware existed. She was rooting around, muttering to herself like Yaz’s dad when he'd lost his keys. She ignored the tense looks her friends shared and didn't seem to notice the deafening silence. 

Jack had moved as far away from the Master as possible without leaving the room entirely. 

"Ah ha, got it," the Doctor said holding up a ring in victory. 

"You sure this is a good idea?” Jack asked.

"Not even a little bit." Despite her curt reply, the Doctor moved towards the Master ring in hand, and he turned obligingly, so she could undo his cuffs. 

"I remember that ring. You wore it the first time I met you in this body." The Doctor murmured something vaguely affirmative as she continued to fiddle with the cuffs behind his back. 

"Hardly seems like a challenge, having the key to your own handcuffs on you at all times,* the Master continued. 

"Didn't really matter. See, you really have to wiggle it to, ah ha. There we go." The Doctor stood, the handcuffs dangling from her hand were quickly returned to her coat pockets. The Master groaned as he moved his wrists from behind his back. 

Yaz couldn't stop herself from taking a small step back, moving closer to her friends. They were huddled around the console and she wanted to pull the Doctor with her, move her out of danger. 

The Doctor continued to stand over the Master, too close for Yaz’s comfort. He seemed quite content to just stare up at her, for the moment.. 

"So, aren't you going to ask me Doctor?" he purred. 

"Ask you what?" 

"Well you've gone to all this trouble, broken me out of prison. You want something only I can give you. So, ask." 

The Doctor turned away from him, moved back to the console. She was typing, pressing buttons and avoiding everyone's eyes. "Not yet. It's too soon. When I saw you, you from a future point in time, well - you didn't look quite so disheveled. We’ll have to wait. Few Earth standard days at the most. A week tops."

"He's going to be here for a week?" Ryan asked, eyebrows raised. 

"I don't remember that been part of the original plan," Graham pointed out. 

"That's not the only thing she forgot to mention," Yaz said. She tried to keep the tinge of betrayal out of her voice, but she suspected that she’d failed miserably. Still, she continued. "She's planning to let him go after."

The Doctor shook her head as Graham and Ryan added their objections. 

"He's not going anywhere," Jack said in a tone that implied the Master was unlikely to survive his release. 

The Doctor slammed her hands down on the console, and the central column whirred anxiously. She was frustrated and about to explain her ridiculous reasons for letting a mass murderer escape justice, again. Yaz had heard enough of her excuses on the way back from the Capitol. 

"Yes he is. I'm letting him go," the doctor answered.

"Oh no you aren't", the Master pantomimed, pointing an accusing finger at the Doctor. "Seriously though, what's the big deal? It's almost like you humans actually believe her. She's not going to let me go." 

The Master pulled himself up to standing and sniggered. "The Doctor and me; we have played this game before, haven't we love? We both know how this ends." 

"What's he talking about?" Graham asked. 

"You don't want to know," Jack murmured. 

"Oh please, like your primitive little brain cells could even comprehend.." the Master began. 

The Doctor ignored them all, her attention on the console. A few more key strokes and a lever pull later, she interrupted the Master bickering comeback, "Stop it. I've pulled your rooms up from the archive. I advise you stay in them." 

Yaz watched the Doctor’s face. She wasn’t angry. The Timelord looked tired.

The Master appeared a bit put out but then shrugged. "You want to lie to your pets in peace, I'm happy to oblige." 

In the silence after the Masters exit, the companions shared concerned looks with one another. No one wanted to speak, and Yaz wasn’t sure what to say. 

“He’s got rooms here?” Graham asked incredulously. “Rooms. Plural” 

“Yep, well - suppose it’s more of a wing,” the Doctor replied, still fully focused on the console screen in front of her. 

“Okay, so we’re going to stay in the vortex while he’s here. I’ve bio locked all Tardis controls, access to the engineering sections and the spa settings.”

Yaz sighed. She really didn’t want to know why the Master needed to be locked out of the spa settings - hell, she hadn’t realised the Tardis had a spa. 

“That should do it,” the Doctor announced, looking at her friends hopefully. 

“You know it’s not enough. Remember what he was able to do the last time he was in your Tardis?” Jack asked. 

“Last time the Master was here, she re-organised the Library by authors she most wanted to murder,” the Doctor said cherrfully. “Turns out she’s not a big Harry Potter fan, or she is. It’s hard to tell sometimes.”

“Stop joking for one minute Doctor. I remember what he did to the Tardis. He gutted her, turned the console room into a monstrosity.” 

“I know Jack, but that was a very long time ago. And this time is different. This time, we know the Master will behave himself, at least until after we meet him in Sheffield. So we’ve got a few days, a week tops, before we need to worry about any plots.”

Yaz wasn’t sure she agreed with the Doctor. The Master had turned up in Sheffield, looking well rested and smug as hell. That didn’t mean he hadn’t tried to kill them all the day before. 

It didn’t mean he hadn’t succeeded in killing them and had turned up in Sheffield out of his own self interest. She wondered if the Doctor actually believed he would behave himself. She hadn’t told the other Timelord anything about their meeting in Sheffield. Not when or where it happened. He still didn’t have enough information to arrange his own prison break. It was possible the Doctor didn’t trust the Master as much as it appeared. 

And maybe this was the Master’s plan? Divide and conquer. Yaz shook herself to try and get rid of that particular thought. 

“And then you’re just going to let him go?” Ryan asked. 

“That is what I said.”

“So you lied.” Yaz said. She really wanted to trust her friend, but the number of lies she had told them in just the last day. The number of things she’d just omitted over the last few months. It was all piling up. 

The Doctor sighed. “Nope, I fully intend to let him go when this is all over. Which should be interesting. I haven’t tried this before.”

“You’re not actually serious,” Graham said. “Doc, he’s a murderer. You let him go and he’ll just run off and destroy another planet somewhere else.”

She groaned and shook her head. “Remember what I told you yesterday. Nobody can control the Master. Well, it took me a very very long time to figure that out. I have stopped his plans for destruction so many times. I’ve tried to stop his worst impulses. I’ve kept him close, kept him prisoner, and none of it worked.

“He always left me, because - well, the because doesn’t really matter. But I’ve never tried this before. Letting him go. Maybe he’ll stay, or maybe he won’t. I don’t know but either way I’m done. I’m out of other options. I can’t fix him, and I can’t kill him.”

“You could send him back to prison,” Ryan pointed out. 

Yaz shuddered at the thought. “That’s not an option,” Jack said definitively. 

No one was happy with the situation but there wasn’t a good alternative. 

[...]

The Doctor felt like she was intruding, coming back to these rooms after so long. The first time in this body. The fire was empty and cold, where Missy had always kept it lit. Their high backed armchairs still stood; cold and dark monuments to the nights The Doctor and Missy had spent side by side. 

Seeing his clothes discarded on the floor added to the sense of wrongness. Shoes kicked off by the large ornate four poster bed. His jacket and shirt thrown over the chair in front of Missy’s vanity. Her make-ups and brushes were still there, alongside devices she had once assured the doctor were for cosmetic purposes only. 

She followed the trail of clothes to the bathroom; all black tiles and ornate gold fittings. The Master lay in the tub, broad shoulders seeming too wide where Missy’s bony frame had once lain. He had a wet cloth thrown over his face. He looked for all the universe like a man who didn’t know he was been watched. 

The Doctor knew better. She took one step forward, watched his head twitch minutely following her movement, and she retreated to lean back against the doorway. He was jumpy this time. 

“You going to redecorate?”

He hmmed contentedly beneath the cloth, hand rising to pull it away. He sighed but didn’t turn to look at her. 

“Maybe. I think a wardrobe update is needed first.” 

"Not a fan of skirts this time round? I can relate. Impossible things to run in.” 

"Not a fan of corsets,” he replied. "I'm not opposed to a skirt, but then I'm rarely the one running away from my problems."

The Doctor inclined her head; more in recognition of a point scored than agreement with his words. Then realised the Master couldn’t see her. “Touché,” she said. 

The Doctor’s younger self had complained about all the mirrors in Missy’s quarters. He hadn’t liked looking at his own reflection back then, and Missy, been Missy, had probably taken that into account when decorating. It had been impossible for the Doctor to avoid his own reflection in these rooms. 

Now, the Doctor, older if not wiser, was happy for the mirrors. One mirror in particular, hanging over the ostentatious sink. If she moved a bit to the left, and leaned forward on the tips of her toes, she could see his face. 

He looked tired; his face seemed drawn with dark bags under his eyes. Although that could just be because his wet hair was pushed back from his face - and the torture. The Doctor was always tired after being tortured. 

“You like what you see?” he asked. His eyes were open now and bright as ever. 

The Doctor immediately leant back, and the Master chuckled. 

“I just like to see who I’m talking to,” she pointed out defensively. 

She shouldn’t have said that. Before the words were out of her mouth, she knew she shouldn’t have said that. The Master stood, water dripping from his body and turned to face her. 

“Is this better?” he asked innocently. 

The Doctor knew her face as doing a weird thing as she looked away, and crossed her arms over her chest. It wouldn’t work. It hadn’t worked with Missy either. 

He laughed outright at this. “You haven’t changed much this time round. Still a complete prude.” 

The Doctor wanted to argue, but knew that would only encourage him. 

“Just - put on your damn robe, so we can talk.” 

“Talk?!” he laughed. She listened to him step out of the bath, heard him moving around the room and resolutely kept her eyes averted. “You came to my rooms, Doctor. Interrupt my bath, and you’re telling me all you want to do is talk. How disappointing.”

She listened to him come closer; heard what she hoped was the sound of Missy’s robe being wrapped around the Master’s body. Still she kept her eyes averted, until she heard him sigh loudly. “You can look now. Promise, I’m decent.”

The Doctor wanted to laugh at that, but when she turned back to the Master he was closer than expected. Too close. She swallowed, and he smirked as he passed her. 

She turned and followed him back to Missy’s bedroom - his bedroom now. 

“So what do you want to talk about?” he asked, already pouring himself a drink. The Doctor was asking herself the same question. There was a reason she was here, more than one. What were they again?

She was silent as she watched him lean back in Missy’s favourite high back chair. He crossed his long legs, and drew Missy’s purple silk robe over the flesh of his thigh. The Doctor couldn’t miss that brief flash of skin. 

“You’re doing this on purpose,” the Doctor pointed out. “Stop it.”

The Master inclined his head. “I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

He did not sound sincere. But then, Missy never sounded sincere.

The bath, the robe, sitting in front of the fireplace with a glass of scotch and eyeing the Doctor like a small prey animal. It was all Missy. So like before, when it had just been the two of them. Before it all went wrong.

“Stop acting like her,” the Doctor gritted out. She knew how ridiculous she sounded. 

The Master smirked. “I am her.”

“No, you’re not. We’re different people now. And - it’s just strange enough being back here without you, acting like her. And you’ve never acted like her before. Why now?”

The Master grimaced. He downed his drink and then looked accusingly at the glass. He didn’t like scotch this time, the Doctor realised. He put the glass down with enough force that it haphazardly slid across the table towards her. 

The Doctor frowned and watched the Master run a hand over his mouth. A very un-Missy-like gesture. It was like a switch had been thrown. Here was the Master she’d met in the ruins of Gallifrey. A little worse for wear and very unhappy, but it was obviously him. 

Which made even less sense. Why had he been pretending? If his goal had been to unsettle the Doctor he had succeeded, and he should have been reveling in that little victory. 

Instead the Master looked dour and seemed in a rush to move on now. “What do you want, Doctor?” he demanded. 

“I wanted to talk about - “ she stopped when she saw his eyes narrow. He was so angry this time. She sighed and chose a different tact. “Listen, we all have to get along for a few days. So, no killing, maiming or setting traps for the humans. And that includes Jack.” 

“Of course, your precious humans,” he almost spat. 

She frowned. The was more in keeping with the Master she knew this time around, but it still seemed wrong. “It’s in your interests too,” she huffed. 

“Really? What do I get out of all this? 

The Doctor sat in the chair beside the Master’s, close enough to reach out and take his hand. She had done it before, in a former life. 

“Are you really so blind with rage that you can’t see what I’m offering you? I got you out of that prison on Medea, and once we’re done here -” 

“We will never be done.” 

“That’s up to you,” the Doctor said. “But once you’ve gone back and told my former self to get you out of that prison, then it’s up to you what happens next. You can stay or go. Whatever you want.”

The Master grinned. “Do you really mean that Doctor? Not hoping I’ll change this time and see the error of my ways.”

She sat back in her chair. “I don’t think so,” she said but sounded uncertain even to herself. “I never really thought Missy would change, I just - didn’t want her to leave.”

The Master hmmed. “Her. But not me. You left me in France. You left me to the Kasarvin. You walked away from me on Gallifrey.”

“You left me on that Mondasian ship!” she pointed out. 

The Master actually growled in response, looked like he was about to say something and then shut his mouth so quickly. 

Huh, that’s a neat trick. The Doctor must remember that. 

They sit side by side in the silence, like they used but not. She was never very good at silence, or sitting still. Doing both at the same time was unbearable. 

“I didn’t - “ she started to say, but then stopped herself. He was never a fan of apologies. The doctor scrunched up her face and tried again. “I didn’t want Missy to leave.

“I never want you to leave. You’re my oldest friend, and I just wish we could go back to when things were less complicated.”

“We can’t.”

“I’m starting to realise that,” she smiled sadly at him. “I meant what I said. After this is over, I’ll leave you back at your Tardis, wherever that is. No tricks. 

“You actually sound like you'll miss me.”

“I might. I like it when it's like this.”

The Master raised an eyebrow at that. “Awkward small talk in dimly lit room?”

“Yeah,” she said enthusiastically. “I really do. It's not exciting, but it's nice. It'd be nicer with the fire on though. You able to build a fire this time round?”

He'd been mid eye roll at her sentiment, when he'd stopped. His eyes lit up with excitement. “You don't know how to make fire?” he asked.

“Well not small ones, that stay in the fireplace. My fires always get a bit out of control and before you know it. We're evacuating.”

“Now that does sound fun,” he laughed, pushing himself up from his seat. 

When he stood, all attempts at ladylike grace forgotten, the Doctor had glowered at him. “The Tardis has anti-fire safeguards,” she pointed out, already seeing where this was going. 

“What kind?” he asked, very excited now, as he rooted around on Missy’s vanity; examining beauty products - picking up some and discarding others. “The stuck all the air out of a room type of fire defense?”

“Don't think so”, the Doctor said, sounding uncertain even to herself. “That doesn't sound like me, does it? I think there's a sprinkler system - I actually haven't had a fire in awhile.” 

The Master was ignoring her now, and she continued to babble as he organised his collection of canisters and beauty pots in front of the fireplace. 

“Well I lie. My last few regenerations were a bit fiery but the old girl just let it burn.” The Doctor found herself staring at the way the silk robe gaped to show a deep v of his chest, swallowed. “I think she likes the chance for a bit of regeneration herself.” 

“Don’t we all,” the Master said, storming off again. This time the robe whipped round his knees. 

Alone, the Doctor found herself looking quizzically at his collection of items. This was better. Well, no she rather missed watching the Master spin around the room in Missy’s robe. Now that he was acting more like himself, there was a familiarity and the beginnings of that attraction her previous regenerations had always felt towards the Master. 

It wasn’t better without him, just safer. Easier to pick up a can of something called hairspray and examine the many warning labels - some of which appear to have been hand-etched in Missy’s dainty script. 

“What's all the hairspray for?” she asked when he returned. 

He was stooped in front of the fireplace, with a strange array of items - corsets, wooden ornaments, the legs of several chairs and a box of matches. “You said you wanted a fire.” It was a statement, not an explanation. “Oh, and I should probably tell you, now that you're a woman and all that, these aren't hairspray.” 

“What?!” 

“Course not. No woman needs this much hairspray, and as much as it pains me to say, my former self got the idea from one of your pets.” 

The Doctor smiled at the can in her hand. “Ace?”

The Master hmmed. “You really were a terrible influence on my former regeneration.” 

“Same,” the Doctor admitted. 

The Master stopped in his flurry to stare at her. For a second, it looked like he was going to say something, ask a question, but he turned away instead and set to work building their fire. 

[...]

The Doctor was beginning to think the Master didn't know how to light a fire this time round. 

It had kindled and then exploded. The explosion had led to a fire. DId that count? The whole debacle did answer one question though; turned out the Tardis did have anti-fire safeguards. It was foam instead of water sprinklers, but she was close. The fam were not impressed with this discovery. In fact, they seemed really put out by the whole thing. Graham complained about the whole Tardis shaking, which seemed like a bit of an exaggeration, and the rest of them seemed very distressed by the blaring alarms and flashing lights.

Unfortunately, the Master's quarters on the Tardis were ruined and quickly consigned back to the archive before the foam could spread any further. Her plan to keep him in his rooms for the duration of his stay was a definite failure and Jack hadn't helped matter by directing him to take whatever room was furthest away from their quarters.

The Doctor groaned as the Master had happily skipped off. She knew exactly where he was heading, but needed to reassure her friends before she followed. She didn't think he could do too much damage in the meantime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Christmas! Hope you and your loved ones are safe and happy wherever you are.


End file.
